


love, when the sea rises to meet us

by medievalraven



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Black Sails, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Knife Play as Foreplay, Minor Sapphic Vibes, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medievalraven/pseuds/medievalraven
Summary: “A story is true.  A story is untrue.  As time extends, it matters less and less.  The stories we want to believe are the ones that survive, despite upheaval and transition and progress.  Those are the stories that shape history.”Brio Black Sails AU: Beth Marks has her sights on controlling all of Nassau, but her plans hit a snag when a mysterious new pirate captain appears one day with his own vision of the future.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 35
Kudos: 82





	love, when the sea rises to meet us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fortunehasgivenup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortunehasgivenup/gifts).



> 1 - Happiest birthday to the lovely fortunehasgivenup. You are a treasure worth more than all the gold on the Urca de Lima and I hope you enjoy this fic.  
> 2 - You don't need to have watched Black Sails to understand or follow this fic - for additional context it's set in the early eighteenth century. But if you have seen the show then the story is loosely based on the relationship between Eleanor and Vane and like the good pirate I am I took only the pieces that I liked :)

Beth’s just weeks shy of her twenty-ninth birthday when she hears his name for the first time.

It winds through the streets and into the tavern like a warm summer breeze before a big storm, demanding attention from everything in its wake, willing the town to bend to his whims. 

He’s apparently unrepentant, viscous...young. 

Too young depending on who’s telling the story. 

And Beth just rolls her eyes, just keeps filling up tankards with rum as the men trade tales about Blackbeard’s new quartermaster.

There’s always someone trying to make a name for himself on this island, trying to build his reputation on the unforgiving sea in the search for money and notoriety, for immortality. 

But there’s always dead bodies too. 

The lucky few that make it back to land fill the graveyard, others line the bottom of the ocean. Dozens and dozens of men that were too greedy, too ravenous, too desperate and paid the ultimate price for their sins. 

So she doesn’t give much thought to this new pirate, this Rio Valdez. 

Maybe if he manages to keep himself alive for a few months she’ll care, but in the meantime she has her own battles to win. 

Her own legacy to secure.

\--

“Okay, what’s the latest on Flint’s run?”

“Well he was scheduled to return two days ago,” Ruby says, adding a careful mark in the ledger, “but there have been reports of Royal Navy ships along their usual route which means he likely had to improvise. With any luck he’ll be back tomorrow or the next day.”

Beth nods, turning to look at the map on the back wall of her office. 

That was the third report of English ships in the Caribbean this month, all conveniently along the trade routes,  _ her  _ trade routes. 

It’d been easy for her to gain control over her father’s shipping company, the only one on the island. 

She’d already taken over the tavern, so it was barely a fight to get the rest, especially given how far gone he’d been lately, falling harder and harder into the bottom of a bottle. He didn’t even push back when she sent him into the interior of the island, far away from the coast and her interests. 

But she was learning quickly that the sea was much more formidable than anything on this lawless island.

“Make sure Fraiser knows and tell him to be ready whenever they do make port.”

“Already done.”

“Of course you have,” Beth smiles, tapping her fingers on the edge of the desk before moving to stand by the window, watching the crowd pass below. “How’s the brothel’s income?”

It was her newest conquest, one she was still learning with Ruby’s help as Madame, but it had already been proving especially profitable in both coin and gossip. 

Ruby hums, flipping a page in the ledger and adding another figure. 

“Steady. There’s always someone looking for company on a cold night.”

Beth laughs, catching the mischievous glimmer in Ruby’s eye.

“Alright, well -”

The door creaks open quickly, swollen from the humidity, and Beth raises a brow when one of the maids walks in.

“Pardon the intrusion ma’am, but Master FItzpatrick has requested your presence down at the docks immediately.” 

“Thank you,” Beth sighs, picking up her keys to hook on her skirt before looking back at Ruby. “We’ll finish later?”

Ruby waves her off, already focused on the ledger again, and Beth shakes her head as she slips out of the office, heading down to the beach. 

And at first she’s not sure what the problem could be that required her leaving her office when the sun was at its brightest. The small area where her men catalogue incoming cargo before transit to the warehouse seems to be running smoothly and the beach itself is fairly empty aside from a few men wandering around the fringe of the pirate encampments. 

But then she hears the voices. 

“This isn’t even close to what you paid us the last time.”

“Considering the condition in which you delivered the items you should be happy we’re offering this much,” Mr. Fitzpatrick replies, pushing the small bag of coins towards the man, barely flinching when the man pushes it right back across the table and slams his hands down on the wood. 

And she doesn’t especially care for Mr. Fitzpatrick. He was a little too exacting and she was only just confident enough in his loyalty, but he was still the best accountant in Nassau and she really didn’t want to have to go through the process of finding someone new just because one pirate was pissed off.

“Gentlemen, what seems to be the issue?”

They both turn to look at her, breaking their little staring contest only when Beth clears her throat, expectant. 

“The Ranger returned from her latest voyage with damaged goods, Miss,” Mr. Fitzpatrick says, nodding towards a collection of barrels being offloaded onto the docks. “I advised the quartermaster here that their payment would be reduced in light of this.”

“That sounds fair,” Beth comments, walking over to the barrels to inspect them herself, running her fingers over the deep gashes and cuts, and really it was impressive they were still somehow intact. 

“And what would a woman know about what’s fair?” the man scoffs.

“Well I know that it’s my name on the line when my men deliver subpar products,” Beth replies, tracing one particularly deep gash, “and I know this is the third trip in a row that you’ve returned with something damaged.”

She steps around the barrels one last time, shaking her head when she sees a hole in one. 

“Although maybe this is a conversation I should be having with your captain instead, perhaps Blackbeard needs to be reminded that if he wants to continue doing any business on this island then he needs to consider running a better ship.”

The man laughs, lifting an inked hand to run through his beard.

“Ol’ Teach ain’t around anymore.”

And she glances over at Mr. Fitzpatrick then, relieved that he also seems surprised at this news.

It wasn’t the first time that a mutiny had happened while a crew was out at sea, a changing of the guard brought on by the water, but usually there were rumblings of discontent, whispers among the men at the tavern that served as a warning that change was on the horizon. 

“But I’m sure the captain will be wantin’ to have words with you,” the man continues with a sneer, scooping up the bag of coins and leaving with one last glare. 

“We look forward to it,” Mr. Fitzpatrick calls after him, rolling his eyes, and Beth just lets out a deep breath, watching the man head back towards the encampments.

“Salvage whatever we can from this and deliver it to Naft.” 

“Aye.”

Beth smiles, narrowing her eyes when she sees the bearded man approach someone else, someone taller, leaner, and really she doesn’t envy him right now. 

But whoever this new captain is, he has to learn that there are rules on Nassau if he wants to get a share of her business.

\--

She takes the long way back to the tavern, walking along the beach until all that’s left is the ocean, stopping to let the waves lap against the hem of her skirt. 

The night crowd is just starting to wander inside when she finally gets back, coaxed away from the water by the pinkening sky and the promise of a warm meal, and she weaves past a couple that have already had too many, waving at the bartenders before heading upstairs to her office. 

Someone’s closed the shutters, blocking out the setting sun, and she walks over to push them back open, gasping when she turns around and sees a man sitting at her table. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

He chuckles, lighting the cigaro dangling from his lips, taking a few puffs before tapping away the ashes.

“Seems we have a score to settle, darlin’.”

Beth blinks, watching the red flicker of heat as the man takes another drag. She moves slowly towards her desk, angling herself so she could pick up her letter opener without him noticing, ready to defend herself if necessary. 

“Is that right?”

He nods, blowing out more smoke, enough that she can barely see his face through the grey haze.

“My quartermaster tells me you refused us fair compensation earlier despite safe passage of goods.”

And she adjusts her grip on the letter opener then, not exactly loosening it, but softening it. 

“Let me guess, you’re the new captain of the Ranger?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry where are my manners,” he says, standing quickly and putting out his cigaro on the table, giving a mocking bow towards her. “Captain Rio Valdez at your service, ma’am.” 

And it takes a second to connect the name to all the stories that have floated around her for months at this point, the tall tales of a man who seemed invulnerable, without fear.

He’s not exactly what she’d expected. 

Not especially tall or imposing, handsome in an almost boy-ish way with dark eyes and a dirty shirt. The only things that give her any pause are the handful of leather bracelets that do little to hide the scars littering his wrists, mottled by the sun, and the massive tattoo on his throat of a bird in flight.

It’s almost disappointing, she thinks, eyes meeting his again, to have a face to the name now and to realize that he’s really just a man in the end, not unlike so many others that have walked through her doors before.

“Charmed.”

“Now about my money,” he continues, pushing his weight forward enough to make sure his sword and gun are visible on his waist, and Beth fights the urge to laugh at his attempt at intimidating her. 

But she didn’t get where she is by bowing down to every man with a fragile ego and a chip on their shoulder. 

“I think you mean my money,” she says, “and as we explained to your man it hardly seems appropriate that you receive full payment when your negligence means that I now have to pay to fix your mistakes before I can distribute the alcohol to my partners.” 

Rio huffs, flexing his fingers against the hilt of his sword. 

“Mistakes?”

“Maybe out there,” she nods out her window where the ocean’s just visible, “you don’t have to answer for your actions, but around here there’s a system that follows my rules. I’m in charge of the commerce on this island, all of it, so if you want to continue doing business in Nassau then I’d suggest that you get better fucking control of your men or I’ll find another captain to take over your routes.”

And Rio rocks his jaw at that, his gaze hardening, and for a second she can actually see the fearsome man behind all the stories. 

“Or don’t,” she adds with a shrug. “I’m sure your crew will be understanding when they discover their pockets are suddenly emptier than normal.” 

It’s quiet then, just the noise from the street filtering in from the windows, as they watch each other until finally Rio breaks and shakes his head, walking towards her. 

“It won’t happen again.” 

He says it through gritted teeth, his already raspy voice somehow even deeper, and Beth smiles, savoring the victory.

“Great. Tell your man to check with Mr. Fitzpatrick tomorrow for your next assignment.”

Rio exhales, turning to leave only to stop and grab her hand holding the letter opener instead, squeezing until she can feel the blade cut into her palm. 

“I look forward to workin’ with you, Miss Marks.” 

He squeezes one last time before stepping back and disappearing outside, and Beth just slumps back against the desk, wincing when her hand hits the wood. 

\--

“See this is the problem with having a business that relies on pirates,” Beth sighs later, throwing her vest to the side of her room. 

“What’s that?” 

“They’re fucking unpredictable,” she continues, groaning when she trips over her shoes. “Just when I think I have them all under control they go and overthrow their fucking captains in favor of some new asshole.” 

Ruby chuckles, putting her hair brush down on the vanity to join Beth by the bathtub, carefully undoing the last few buttons of Beth’s blouse. 

“Well when you put it that way.” 

“I just hate surprises,” Beth says, leaning into Ruby’s touch. 

“You hate not being in control.” 

And she isn’t wrong, Beth thinks, stepping into the water and scooting forward enough for Ruby to join her. 

But it was more than that too. 

She hated that she could technically do everything right and still lose it all because she depended so much on men who lived based on such an arbitrary code of ethics, men whose affections turned faster than a summer squall. 

“Did I tell you that he ruined my table?” Beth asks, pout turning into a smile when Ruby runs her fingers over the cut on her palm. 

“You needed a new one anyway.”

Beth shrugs. 

“Look,” Ruby starts, squeezing Beth’s hand just like Rio had hours earlier, “don’t worry yourself over him. Men like that never stay around for long.” 

“Promise?” Beth jokes, carefully turning in the tub to wrap herself around Ruby, falling into a sweet kiss. 

And she could probably help with that, swing favor away from him and to someone a little more preferable for her dealings.

How hard could it be to stage a mutiny anyway? 

\-- 

So she starts small. 

Rome wasn’t built in a day and she knows it’s going to take some time to do this right, to raise suspicions enough for someone to request a vote of confidence. 

It’s easy to tell her bartenders to charge any crew member of the Ranger three pence more for a drink or food. Even easier to tell the girls at the brothel to charge another ten, twenty if Rio comes in looking for someone. 

The rest is a little trickier. 

She still needs his ship to bring her cargo, so she can’t just stop giving him new leads or routes. 

But she can withhold some of the bigger jobs, the more expensive ones.

And she can make sure they conveniently keep finding fault with the hauls they do bring in, docking their pay in bits and pieces.

(Which is even easier when they keep showing up with crates and barrels with gashes or deep cuts.) 

Those are the days she makes sure to head down to the beach, standing back behind Mr. Fitzpatrick, watching while his quartermaster, a man she discovers is named Mick, attempts to negotiate for more. 

Rio actually starts to show up after a few weeks of this, never adding anything, content to let Mick handle things as he stares at her instead, cigaro lit between his lips.

And maybe she realizes later, after a meeting where Mick’d stormed off forcing Rio to slowly count the meager pile of coins himself, that this is the most fun she’s had in years. 

\--

The only real problem she runs into is the issue of who could replace Rio when he’s gone. She hasn’t invested this much of her energy just to have his surly quartermaster fill the void and keep causing headaches for her. 

Blackbeard would be the obvious choice. They’d worked together for years before Rio showed up and he always turned a profit for her, but no one had heard from him since the mutiny and in any case it wasn’t likely that he was even still alive. Pirates weren’t exactly known for mercy on the high seas. 

She takes a sip of rum, leaning back against the bartop to survey the men milling around the tavern, pausing when she sees a group from the Walrus. 

John Silver could be a good option, if Flint was willing to part with him. He’d always been eager to climb up in the world and had an appropriately silver tongue that could convince a man to do anything he wanted. 

Or even Billy Bones. He wasn’t as calculating as Silver, but he was loyal to a fault and she could use a little loyalty now. 

She glances around the room again, making sure no one is watching her before pulling out the list she’d made of potential options from her pocket, carefully adding both of their names. 

Six men, six opportunities, and she still feels like she’s on uneven ground, like nothing will solve this problem. 

“Lookin’ for a crew, sweetheart?”

Beth sighs, closing her eyes for a second before turning to see Rio leaning against the counter next to her, the whisper of a smirk tugging on his lips. 

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but the Intrepid is seeking a new first mate and I offered to assist in their search.”

And she’s not sure if Rio actually buys her lie, but he does nod slowly, reading over her list again before looking over his shoulder to flag down the bartender.

“Interesting that you’re so eager to help them considerin’ their last few hauls for you have been fuck all.”

“I didn’t realize you cared so much Captain Valdez,” she comments, lacing her words with a put-upon sweetness, folding up the paper and sliding it back in her pocket.

Rio hums, taking a sip of his drink.

“I care when it becomes apparent that my crew is gettin’ passed over for information about potential prizes.”

Beth laughs.

“Really?”

“Not sure what’s so funny,” Rio drawls, dropping the cadence of his voice in what she assumes is supposed to make him seem more serious, imposing, and she meets his eyes in challenge, eyebrow quirked.

“I’m sorry, but do you seriously think that you’re entitled to any information when your last few hauls have also been fuck all to me? Or have you already forgotten that?”

Rio scoffs. 

“You should be happy I even let you continue to do business around here,” she adds, emboldened by the drinks she’s had to taunt him a little.

“Oh you let me?”

“Well I certainly don’t need you.”

And that’s enough to make Rio rock forward slightly, close enough that she can feel the heat of him despite the icy glare he’s leveling at her. 

“Am I interrupting something?” 

Ruby’s question cuts through them and Rio huffs out a heavy breath, narrowing his eyes at Beth one last time before picking up his drink and leaving, joining a table in the far corner where Mick and some woman are sitting. 

“Well that looked cozy.”

“I had it under control,” Beth mumbles, throwing back the last of her rum. 

Ruby shakes her head, accepting her own drink when the bartender comes over. 

“I think maybe you’re a little too personally invested in this one particular pirate.”

“I - I am not too invested,” Beth sputters, “and it’s hardly personal.” 

Ruby smiles, something sad, and this time Beth knows that her lie didn’t land, not that she’s ever really been able to hide anything from Ruby anyway.

“How was your day?” she asks quickly, hoping to change the topic away from her, away from the look Ruby’s still giving her. 

“Fine,” Ruby breathes, taking another sip.

Beth nods, undoing her hair from the clip after another curl slips free, shaking it out before putting it back up.

“I did receive a letter though from Stan.” 

And that makes her freeze, even when that same curl slips free again.

“He's coming back from England,” she says, twisting the simple gold wedding ring on her finger, the one Beth hasn’t seen in months. “Apparently there’s going to be a new governor of the Bahamas and he was asked to serve as his butler.” 

And it hits her then, that the look Ruby had been giving her wasn’t because of Beth’s vendetta against Rio, but because she knew she was going to have to end things between them and leave her in the past.

Which Beth had never been under any grand illusion that she was the love of Ruby’s life or that Ruby was hers. They’d been very clear from the beginning that this was just a short-term fling, something to cut through the loneliness and sadness that sprung up in the night for the both of them until Stan could make the voyage across the sea. 

But that still didn’t make it any easier, not when Beth still felt so adrift. 

“That’s good right?” she replies. “You’ll finally be together.” 

Ruby smiles again, only this time it seems a little less weary, as if she’s remembering the love she has that’s sailing towards her now. 

“And we still have tonight,” Ruby says, meeting Beth’s eyes, and Beth nods, resting her hand on top of Ruby’s.

“Let’s not waste it then.”

\--

In the end she settles on a young man named Edward Jones, a former crewman of the Demeter with piercing blue eyes and a natural willingness to please that should work to her advantage. 

They meet a few times to discuss the plan, how he’s to join the Ranger the next time it’s in port and as covertly as possible play up any rumblings among the other crew. There’d already been murmurs of discontent weaving their way through the tavern and the brothel about Rio and even Mick, so it shouldn’t take too much for Edward to slide in and seize control. 

Especially after she gives him the tip on a Spanish treasure galleon, one that many thought was lost before it reached Florida, one that was supposedly carrying a treasure so rich it sunk the ship entirely.

Because if there’s one thing she does know about pirates it’s that they always think with their purse-strings over their hearts. 

The only problem is that as the weeks tick by Rio doesn’t return to port. 

The Ranger doesn’t appear in the bright sun during the hot summer days, doesn’t slink in blanketed by a sky full of stars.

And it’s odd really, that he’s seemingly vanished like a mirage, presumably just another casualty of the sea. 

The scar on her palm the only reminder that he was ever real to begin with. 

\-- 

“ - and with the new Governor arriving soon we should probably discuss the next course of action,” Naft says, shuffling some papers on the table. 

“We can add it to the agenda,” Beth replies, leaning back in her chair. 

Naft nods, adding a note and stacking all his papers, picking up his hat from where it rests on the table. 

“Then I believe that’s all and I suppose I’ll be making sure that Captain Valdez receives his invitation to the meeting.” 

Beth furrows her brow, glancing over her shoulder towards the water to see if she could make out the Ranger, and when had he even come back?

“Why would we invite Captain Valdez to a meeting of the Island Council?”

It was after all just a group of merchants and traders that had some kind of vested interest in the operation and commerce of the island, mostly administrative and not something that pirates dwelled in. 

“You didn’t hear?” 

“Hear what?” Beth asks slowly. 

Naft laughs, pulling out a handkerchief to dab at his forehead. 

“Why Captain Valdez is the newest Steward of Fort Nassau. Apparently he snuck in a few nights ago and slaughtered Captain Hornigold and all his men while they slept.” 

And that makes Beth’s breath catch. 

The fort sat on the edge of the island, along a rocky cliff-front and was built to oversee the transit in and out of the docks, regulating who could bring in their hauls for trade. 

It was a ceremonial position on the council really, Captain Hornigold had never been that strict with the access into the island and never had that much interest in the flow of goods.

But she had a sneaking suspicion that Rio wouldn’t feel the same. 

\--

They’re still packing up the bodies when she makes it down to the fort, lining the cobblestones with men who probably never even saw the end coming. 

She steps to the side when two men walk down the pathway, a wrapped body between them, and she’s never been a religious person, but she still says a small prayer for the man as they pass before starting up the path again.

“Ah, ma’am?”

The voice makes Beth stop and she turns to see one of the men waving her down. 

“It’s a right ghastly sight up there, I’d suggest you go home until it’s all cleaned up.” 

“I appreciate the concern,” she replies, nodding her head in thanks as she keeps heading up the path, “but I think I can -”

And she doesn’t shriek as she rounds the corner, but it’s close enough.

Because sitting just outside the massive wooden double doors is a bloody pike with the decapitated head of Edward Jones just above a note with the words ‘I angered Rio Valdez’ written in what she can only assume is blood.

“Here for the Captain?”

And Beth does jump at that, spinning to see Mick leaning back against the wooden doors, inked eyebrow raised. 

“Y-yes.”

Mick laughs, glancing back behind him before gesturing for her to come inside, and Beth squares her shoulders, resisting the urge to look back at Edward again as she pushes past him. 

The courtyard is luckily free of dead bodies, and she takes a deep breath as she slowly walks towards where Rio is standing with a group of his crew, sharpening a sword. 

She watches as Mick comes up to his side, whispering something in his ear, and Rio turns then, grinning when he sees her, sheathing his sword. He lifts his chin towards another archway before disappearing behind the door, not even bothering to glance back to see if she follows.

And maybe she shouldn’t, not after what she’s just seen, but she can’t turn back now.

\--

He leads her down a dark hallway, winding deeper and deeper into the fort, and Beth’s just starting to regret not telling anyone where she’s gone when he finally stops in front of a door and beckons her inside.

“Well it looks like you’ve already made yourself at home,” Beth comments, glancing around the room that Rio must have claimed as his own, eyeing the gun sitting on the ground next to the makeshift pallet. 

Rio laughs, walking over to the fireplace to stoke the flames. 

“What are you doing here Elizabeth?”

“I just came to -” she starts, taking a step back when Rio moves over to the table again. 

“Finish the job yourself?” 

Beth scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” he says, smirking, “was I not supposed to know about your big plan to get rid of me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Nah? Cause that’s not what your boy Eddie said before Mick handled him.”

“So what?” Beth hisses, narrowing her eyes at Rio. “All of this was just a massive ‘fuck you’ to me?”

And that makes Rio smile.

“Yeah, cause darlin’ you didn’t think your little plan all the way through.”

He pulls out his sword then, running his finger along the edge, and Beth drops her hand down to the table, trying to reach for one of the metal cups as discreetly as possible to defend herself with. 

“No?”

“Nah,” he breathes, grabbing Beth’s hand and wrapping her fingers around the hilt. “If you wanna get rid of me you’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

He lifts her hand slowly, pressing the blade against his neck, just below the talons of the bird, and Beth adjusts her grip carefully, meeting Rio’s eyes when the blade bites into his skin and a bubble of blood falls onto the silver.

And for a second she considers it, pushing the sword deeper, taking his life just like he did to all those men outside. 

But she can’t cross this line. 

It was one thing to run him off the island, another completely to take the light from those hazel eyes that are so close to hers now. 

There’s been enough blood spilled because of them already.

Rio seems to sense her hesitation, how her hand loosens around the blade, and he reaches up to pull it out of her grip, dropping it on the table before palming the back of her neck. 

“You tried your best, yeah?” he murmurs, swiping his thumb along her throat, pressing on the same spot she’d pushed the sword into his skin. “But just remember that you need me now.”

“Like you’re special?” Beth taunts even as she leans back into his touch. 

Rio exhales, resting his other hand on her hip.

“You ever get yourself this worked up over anyone else or is it just me?”

It’s almost a whisper, a secret shared between them wrapped in a question she doesn’t want to answer.

So she doesn’t.

Rio grunts softly against her mouth when she drags him down into a kiss, squeezing her hip in surprise before tugging her in closer, deepening their connection. 

They bump into the table, already so lost in each other, and Beth bites back a groan when Rio suddenly lifts her and drops her on it. 

He’s rough, moving her exactly where he wants, tugging open her shirt to bite at the swell of her chest, and she’s never experienced this before, someone who doesn’t treat her reverently, like she’s made of porcelain. 

And maybe she should hate it, hate him, but all it makes her do is dig her own nails into his neck, pull at the strings holding up his pants. 

“You really want it?”

It rumbles against her breast, and Beth whimpers, rocking forward more. 

“Fuck off.”

Rio laughs, shoving up her skirt before bringing her closer to the edge, slotting his hips between her legs. 

“I’d rather fuck you.”

His hand tightens on her waist as he lines himself up and slips inside, giving her a second to adjust before shifting her leg over his hip and starting to move. 

And it’s overwhelming, immediately overwhelming. 

His mouth on hers, bruising, biting, the taste of him, the way her hips already ache from how far he has them spread, pushing into her again and again, and all she can do is take it, push back against him, keep him as close as she can.

Not that he’s fighting her on that. 

She swears she can feel him under her skin from how tightly he’s clinging to her, molding himself to every single part of her as he brings her towards her peak.

And she’s close, so close when he suddenly lifts her leg even higher, driving into her that much harder, deeper, and she gasps, scrambling to grab something, anything to ground herself when her fingers graze the metal of his sword and curl around the hilt, savoring the coolness when she feels so consumed. 

He groans into her neck, sighing out something that sounds like her name as he drops his hand to hers, pushing the blade aside until it falls to the ground before moving both their hands to where she’s stretched around him, framing where he’s still pressing into her. 

All it takes then is a quick shift and swirl of his fingers to her clit and she’s gone, tripping into her release so quickly she falls backwards, panting up at the ceiling while he speeds up, pumping erratically into her until he succumbs too, dropping next to her in a sweaty jumble. 

\--

They don’t speak as they get dressed, moving carefully to avoid each other’s gaze as they clean up the aftermath of this bad decision, and it’s only when she’s about to step out the door and go back to her life that she looks back at him. 

“Just stay the fuck out of my way and I’ll stay the fuck out of yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thank you to inyoursheets for letting me talk at her about this fic while I kept it a surprise from fortunehasgivenup. I appreciate your readiness to help despite never watching the show. 
> 
> And another massive thank you to everyone who read and/or left kudos/comments. I really and truly appreciate you! Also go watch Black Sails - you won't regret it and your life will be infinitely better with those idiots in it.
> 
> As with everything else in my life this fic quickly spiraled out of control - so there will be a second part that should be coming along shortly :)
> 
> (Fic title from Hozier's Be, chapter titles from Banks' Godless, and quote in summary from Black Sails!)


End file.
